I am my own abusive boyfriend.
None can punish me better for sin.
Remaining single, not backing down.
Why would I; too many shits around?
I bristle thinking I’m singular.
I won’t believe no one’s similar.
I’m not special; but I may be blind.
A decade seeing none of my kind.
My first stop would be to blame myself.
But; I’m not the one who cleared this shelf.
If there were boys or toys ever there…
They are all retired; the worse for wear.
I’ll keep writing out sirens’ lyrics…
Coaxing those who get the satiric.

